


Seau à Glace

by evilblackbunny



Series: Dualité Noir [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Dirty Talk, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Shower Sex, cute smut, like barely there but still, really mild body horror, two dudes humping what more do you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilblackbunny/pseuds/evilblackbunny
Summary: One week and a day from stepping into freedom, and Sammy Lawrence has to face a new problem. Henry, as always, wants to lend a hand.
Relationships: Sammy Lawrence/Henry Stein
Series: Dualité Noir [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899091
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Seau à Glace

**Author's Note:**

> Merry christmas, have some old guy smut.

**Seau à Glace**

One week and a day from stepping into freedom, and Sammy Lawrence has to face a new problem. Henry, as always, wants to lend a hand.

/

It was getting _ridiculous_ at this rate.

At his age of fifty-and-change, malnourished and constantly tired, Sammy’s energy should have gone to other things than this… urge.

And it was indeed an _urge_.

For the week the feds footed the motel bill, he and Henry had been busy, together and apart, doing everything they could to help those set free. Adjustments, phone calls, cab rides, you name it; they grabbed the slack that feds failed to find. Henry with his need to help as much as he could, to do more than one man ever should do on his own…

That’s why Sammy stuck close. Henry’d run himself ragged if he wasn’t there to tell him to take a break, or tell someone to take a hike.

While the engraved memories of servitude and devotion w _ould_ not fade anytime soon, Sammy kept himself in check. What they wanted was completely allowed, but… Sammy was tightly wound. Tightly leashed. Tight-lipped until a quip would slip so sharply put… but he was _careful_. So careful to keep himself _himself_ by doing what he had to to help Henry. That help just… happened to be sharp glares and quiet, firm threats to back off.

Because that’s what he was. Sharp, firm, and a threat.

So.

He handled the urge himself, too. Can’t ask Henry to do that! Not at this point in time. Oh no. Henry had made clear that Sammy was who and what he wanted, but… well, for all the blond knew, Henry only _loved_ him! That didn’t mean he wanted to have sex. Sammy frowned down at himself, long arms folded over his chest. The blond wasn’t in his prime anymore, and he wasn’t built like he had been in the studio. His left hand unfolded to drum the right side of his ribs.

Ugh. Sickly. A stiff breeze could flatten him.

At least now they had the entire week together, no more feds or lost people to attend to. Today was it for all of that noise, and it couldn’t have come fast enough. Blue eyes flicked to the sleeping man next to him. Poor guy hadn’t made it to eight before crawling into bed with his day clothes still on. Had Sammy not been having his second shower of the day, he’d let him have it! Honestly, a sweet man who needed to better stand firm when the time called for it, not when he’d hit the limit of his well. He’d at least gotten the shoes off beforehand!

The distance, the canyon between Henry’s blanketed form and Sammy’s hidden legs spanned so far it ached. A queen bed beat a cot, but it meant that physical contact was just… a thing that _could_ happen, not a promise of warmth and weight. He and Henry usually slept with either Henry flush against him, or on top of him like a blanket. It helped he was so warm, so fantastic to hold. The steady pulse under a solid chest that inked fingers pressed against.

Funny. He had had _no_ sexual urges for Henry when he’d been ink. Even when his genitalia had returned -how did he even lose that to the ink?- some loops in, he hadn’t wanted to have sex. He just wanted _Henry_.

Olive skin peppered with more freckles than there were stars in the sky. Gentle, kind eyes that brought to mind early autumn when the leaves were just turning and giving way from green to sienna and golds. His voice was a hush of warm wind churning through tall grass. Sturdy Henry, with strong, calloused hands that warmed Sammy wherever they touched and ran through faded auburn hair so easily. Arms that were so sure in their work, muscles he could see just under the tight fabric of his shirt-

Sammy twitched to life. The blond let out a growl, quiet in the dark.

God damn it. God fucking damn it all. He was one more session away from sticking his boner in the ice bucket! Again? Third time today? Could he… get away with that? It’d raised an eyebrow, for sure, but he could do it. He could-

He had to plan. He couldn’t just say he had to hit the bathroom if Henry woke up! Who knew how long he’d be in there? The noises he’d make if his hands drifted to- no. Stop that. Just… quick, cold shower to get his head clear and his urge down. Easy! Okay, plan ready. Sammy slowly climbed out of bed and waited, feet to the thin carpet. Clean towels. Change of clothes. He’d usually been-

“Sammy?”

Oh shit.

He glanced over his shoulder, careful of where he aimed his hips. “Henry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

The auburn squinted in the dark, then turned to fumble with the bedside light. He affixed his glasses and turned, brows up. “Eh, I’ll live. But what’s going on?”

“Shower.” But his voice cracked like cheap china.

“Sammy. This is your third shower today.” Henry’s tone was teasing with a scant touch of concern. “At three in the morning, too!”

The blond huffed and adjusted his position. Maybe talking would make it go away? “I’m happy to be clean. To shower, scrub, you’d be amazed what small things you miss as an inky creature.”

The cartoonist blinked. “Are you _sure_ you’re okay? I can call up the doctor the feds gave us if-”

Sammy turned so fast his head spun, he forgot the pulsing heat below, and snarled out a half-frightened “No!”

His voice was sharp but Henry didn’t flinch. His hazel gaze trailed down to the tent Sammy had beneath his briefs. “Well… if you don’t want the doctor.” His voice lowered with a soft smile. “Maybe I could help?”

The blond blinked. Twice. Hard. “I-” The idea of those warm, calloused hands denting flesh and gripping his- “Have no need.”

A brow raise. “Really?”

“This week was exhausting for you, I know it. You’ve been, ah, playing dead from the moment head met pillow.” Sammy waved him off, but it was so hard to focus with his pulse so profound between his legs. “It… It’ll go away on its own.”

A slow blink. A teasing smirk. “If you’re not interested in having sex, that’s fine.”

“Henry, that’s not the problem!” His frustrated shout died off when he fell back onto the bed. His legs dangled over the edge, head just missing Henry’s hip. Bright blue eyes stared up from a reddening face. “Would you even… do you know what to… do?” That came out wrong. The blond covered his eyes with one hand, the other drumming the bed.

Henry got out of the bed and circled the foot, a smirk spreading. “Do?”

“You said you preferred women.”

Henry planted a hand on either side of Sammy’s legs and sank down to sit on the floor between his knees. He didn’t think the musician could get redder! “Well… yeah. But I _also_ said there were a few men I liked the same way.”

Jeez, why did the ability to blush have to come back? He hoped this would just… end. Somehow. Maybe he could just go with the ice bucket idea if he ran fast enough! “Mm. Thought I was a special case.”

“You still are. First man I’ve wanted a _relationship_ with.” The cartoonist let out a soft laugh. Henry’s freckle-peppered face darkened with his smile. “ _College_ was full of experimentation.” He was never as boisterous as some of his friends, but being calm and gentle was sometimes what people wanted in a fling. Linda was looking for that in a partner, and her upbeat and tenacious nature was what _he’d_ been looking for in a partner. “It helps that we have the same setup, at least.”

Sammy didn’t look up from under his hand. “Right, yes, well… I’m certainly not inexperienced, but… high school was some time ago.” And no one really asked questions about two athletic teenagers spending time together to ‘practice form’ for upcoming track events. “But so was college, at least on my end.”

“Mm.” Henry peered up at Sammy with hooded eyes and a soft smile. “So, Sammy. Are you alright if I help you with this?”

“I… you’re not obligated to, you know.”

The cartoonist ran a calloused hand up the left leg and gently squeezed a pale thigh. “You’re not a chore I have to do before dinner.” Even though he couldn’t wait to devour the blond. “And I’m already down here.”

The blond fought a whimper and felt his cock twitch against the cotton of his pants. “I-I won’t last long. Don’t want to disappoint.”

The hand retreated, and Henry’s voice grew concerned. “You can tell me no. If you’re not ready for this, we can wait. If you wanna handle it by yourself, I can give you space. Up to you.”

Sammy peeled his thin fingers from an eye to stare at Henry in disbelief. “I _want it_ , Henry, I just don’t think _you’ll_ have much fun with me right now.” Emaciated, flighty, snappish, exhausted, hard-

“Mm, you’re plenty fun, Sammy. We can do _more_ later when we’re both feeling better. Right now I just want you to feel good.” He rested a hand to Sammy’s hip and danced his fingers over the fabric. He shot a meaningful look from where he was between the blond’s legs. “That a yes?”

“Mm… yes.” He let out a soft gasp as Henry pulled the fabric down to expose him completely.

Henry smirked at the erection that bobbed free in the air. Thin like its owner but darker than the flesh of his hips and thighs. Carefully running a palm up the underside so it fell flat to Sammy’s stomach, he grinned. “Good.”

Barely anything happened, yet he was _aching_. “I-I’m not-”

The hand paused before wrapping his fingers around the shaft with a soft smile. “Just tell me when you’re close, okay?”

A sharp nod, and Sammy let his arms fall back. Even just Henry’s hand was so much better than his own or a cold shower. “Mm- _please_.”

Henry’s hand slid in languid strokes, grip firm on the shaft in hand. He could feel the pulse of a thick vein throb with each slow tug. “Like that?” If Sammy wasn’t going to last long, he saw no need to rush to the end.

Sammy let out a soft moan and grasped a handful of the cheap motel comforter in a shaking fist. The thundering pulse of his heart against his rib cage could be felt in the back of his throat, and he covered his mouth with a whine. They’d only been at this not even a minute and he was already falling apart!

Henry reached upwards and ran his free hand across Sammy’s stomach. The flesh was feverish and damp with sweat, near hairless save for the trail of darker hair running from his belly button. Hazel eyes darted upwards, and he quirked a brow. “Hey now, don’t hide.”

Sammy snapped his head up to stare at Henry with blown pupils and a confused scowl.

Dragging the hand against Sammy’s stomach down to clasp gently to a thigh, he leaned closer to the head of the cock in his hand. “I _love_ your noises, Sammy.”

Fuck, that did it! The blond fought a strangled noise and settled on something between a moan and a sob, biting his lip. Why’d he have to be so sweet? “Henry, I-I’m getting- _oh!_ ”

The man on the floor took Sammy’s glans into his mouth and swirled his tongue around the head, lips drawn over his teeth. He hummed low and gave a soft suck, hand still stroking slow and gentle.

Sammy hit climax with a wordless noise and a jerk of his hips, face drawn and eyes closed from bliss. Carnal acts felt hollow without love, and Henry gave it so readily, so happily… he came down from it when the wet, hot mouth drew away from his softening cock. He couldn’t do much more than breathe and hope he’d get the energy to return this favor sooner than later.

But Henry’s face was twisted, lips pursed and brows furrowed at the mouthful he had. Peering over his glasses at the blond, he patted the man’s knee to get his attention.

Sammy, with great difficulty, lifted his head to stare down at the man. “Mm?”

Henry pointed to the box of tissues on the nightstand.

“... oh!” Still warmed by the afterglow, Sammy passed the box to Henry. “Not surprised. Never liked the texture.”

The auburn shook his head a little and spat into the tissue. His scrutinizing glare faded into amused surprise. “Now _that’s_ interesting.”

“What?”

“Well… from what I know, you taste off.” Henry held up the tissue to show that Sammy’s cum was, for the worst of reasons, jet black. “And the color’s off, too.”

“... holy shit.” Sammy fell back onto the bed and felt himself deepen to an angry shade of red. He rubbed his face with his hands and scowled at the ceiling. How had he missed- okay to be honest, he usually shut his eyes during the climax and opened when he caught his breath, but _good god!_ “Well! Mood ruined!”

“Nah. I kinda figured this could happen.” Tossing the tissue into the waste bin, he shot Sammy a lazy smile. “Could have been worse.”

“How?”

He shrugged. “Could have been blood.”

Tension broke and Sammy laughed, still red from the discovery but now a delightful pink around the eyes and cheeks. “I guess s-so!” Arms around his middle, he rolled to one side and let the awkward laughter subside.

Henry ran a hand over Sammy’s  thigh , idle and happy to have helped. “Hey.”

“Mm?”

“You hungry?”

The blond blinked. It was, like many of his bodily functions, up in the air. “Maybe. Why?”

“There’s a diner down the road. I figured we could head there if you were.”

“At three in the morning?”

“Makes sense to me. Walking distance, open twenty-four hours. No one around to give either of us odd looks.”

Sammy drew a breath, deep and slow, to give his head a moment to think it over. It had to beat the food the feds left them with. Basic things that were shelf stable and could get them through a week. Nothing fancy, merely mundane… the diner would be a fine change of pace. “Alright, my little sheep. Let me... get ready.” He also had to remember how to move his legs.

“Take your time.” The man stood with a groan and peered at Sammy through his lashes. “I’m taking a shower.”

He blinked. Something stirred below. Glancing at Henry’s crotch revealed that _someone_ was waiting eagerly for their turn! “You, ah…” His confidence wasn’t as shot as it had been earlier, and Sammy stood from the bed as Henry headed into the small room. “Mind if I join you?”

“Get in here.”

“Gladly.” Suddenly, his legs remembered how to leg.

Henry stripped the shirt free first, then went to work on his pants. The top hung over a bent elbow as he tugged down his fly. “Just glad the feds gave us clothes. I don’t know if I’ll be wearing the shirt I got out in anytime soon.”

Sammy scowled. “At least yours fit. I look like they gave me ill-fitting hand-me-downs.”

“Not too bad.” He blinked and quirked a brow, before tossing his shirt to the floor. “How tall are you again?”

“Too tall.” Six foot two at his full height… which he really only met when he was about to rip someone’s head off.

“Well, I’m about five nine. I kinda lost an inch after the war.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” He chuckled at his response and pushed the pants off to settle around his ankles in a wrinkled bundle of blue. “Oh, that’s better.”

Sammy’s blue gaze widened at the sight before him. “Oh… well, hello~”

The cartoonist grinned and scratched the back of his head, other hand to his hip. “Really?”

“So many freckles, little sheep.” And so much dark, curly hair. He laughed, just a little. “You’re practically wearing a sweater!”

“Believe me, I know. Winter chill never got to me.” The hand at his hip slid down to the elastic of his briefs. “But it makes for some funny tan lines.” A tug down and he exposed himself to the muggy air of the bathroom. Heat rushed to his cheeks as the briefs came off completely. “There we go.”

The blond stared at Henry’s erection with raised brows. “Well, then.” _Thick_. Darker than the rest of him with a deep red tip. Curved and _ready_. The hair around his base was as copious as on his chest and belly. “Uh.”

Henry’s blush got darker. Jeez, he’d never left anyone speechless! “This… okay for you?”

Sammy swallowed. “It’s fine, but I am out of practice.”

A chuckle. “No pressure, but so am I?”

A scoff. “After what you did in the front room? Out of practice, my foot!”

The cartoonist took off his glasses and tried to hide his blush. “Jeez, Sammy.” His grin faded, eyes darting back to him. “Uh… one thing? Don’t… don’t be too worried about my back. Okay? It looks worse than it feels.” And it felt crappy most days. He turned to the shower and started the water, back to Sammy.

“What do… ah.” Okay. Not pretty, but not as bad as he’d expected. The scar running down the left side of Henry’s lower back, off of the spine, was wide and dotted on an edge. Opposite of the dots was a gnarled stretch of scare tissue that left whorls and dimples of paler pink. “Does the skin hurt?”

“Nah. The muscle got shredded, but the skin’s mostly numb. A hot shower helps. And don’t be too worried if you find me on my back, feet up.”

A blink. “What, like a roach?”

A laugh, bright a full. “I guess!” His laughter tapered off when a cool, thin hand pressed itself to the scar on his back.

The blond smiled and leaned down, giving the nearest patch of skin a kiss. His hand slid around, slowing in the thick hair of the cartoonist’s stomach, but Henry turned to stop him.

“Lets get in first.” He set the glasses on the sink.

The blond gave a nod.

The water wasn’t fully hot before they stepped in. Sammy took time to admire what he had under his fingertips, raking a thin hand through chest hair and moving his mouth against Henry’s own.

The shorter man hummed in agreement and blurted out soon as he got a chance with his mouth free, “Slow or as fast as you want.” Henry almost purred the next words. “I’m not picky.”

The blond took the chance. “Good.” He splayed a hand to Henry’s sternum and pushed him back to be against the wall, the other hand rising to grasp a handful of silky auburn hair. “You’re such a sweetheart, but god above you’ll kill yourself before you put yourself first.” He leaned in and placed a few quick pecks to Henry’s scruffy jawline. “Mm? You-mm… you’re always taking care of everyone else.” The hand on his chest trailed down through the carpet of hair.

“Mmf, you’re a talker.”

A chuckle. “Oh, little sheep, you have no idea.” Sammy let free Henry’s hair and wrapped that arm around his shoulders to lie behind his neck. “But you… oh, Henry.” His lowering hand found Henry’s thick length, hard and hot under his spidery hand. “Let me return the favor.”

The man grunted at being touched and melted under the heat of the shower. His focus funneled to the needy heat between his legs and the cool hand grasping him. “Sammy…” His name ended on a moan, and he wrapped both arms around the thin man’s waist.

“God… you’re cute.” Adjusting his grip, Sammy took his and Henry’s cocks in one hand and stroked in short, sharp movements. “Always thought you were cute, Henry. First time I s-saw you, even.”

The cartoonist’s head fell forward to rest his forehead to the musician's collar bone. “N’ you’re handsome.”

Sammy paused his strokes. “Oh, my little sheep. You’re just too much.” He dipped his head to place kisses to his neck. He doubled his efforts down below, biting his lower lip to focus on it. “Getting there? Feeling good?”

A nod and a grunt as the arms around Sammy’s waist tightened. “Sammy, please. Don’t stop.”

The blond turned to place more kisses against Henry’s neck and shoulder. “Oh, god, I’d never.” But he was getting close himself and put more effort into his partner’s thick length. He’d hit a climax already, he could hold off for Henry to-

“Sammy!” Henry’s voice dropped to a throaty moan against his shoulder and his hard, hot fingers dug into his back as he came.

“Mm, good. So good, Henry.” He hadn’t had to hold back long and came right after, huffing with shut eyes.

They stood against each other, Henry still pressed to the wall and Sammy still pinning him. The water still hissed on beside them.

Henry cleared his throat and gave Sammy a little push. “Hey.”

Blue eyes opened halfway. “Hey yourself, darling.”

Henry grinned. “If you don’t have an appetite now, I don’t know what will give you one.”

A faint but distinct grumble came from Sammy’s _very_ awake stomach. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Still getting his breath, the cartoonist “Let’s finish up here first. I actually _do_ need to shower.”

“Well, let me know if you need privacy.”

Henry gripped a wrist and held firm. “Nope. Need you to get my back.”

“Do you now?”

“You don’t _have_ to-”

Sammy frowned. “You can’t stop me.”

“I could. If my back were in better shape, I could lift you!”

“I’m not that thin!”

“You are! Which is why-” he grabbed the shampoo and squeezed a tan dollop into his hand- “I suggested the diner.” Working the soap into a thick lather, the cartoonist shut his eyes and worked his hands into his hair. “I bet they have chocolate cake.”

“What self-respecting diner doesn’t have chocolate cake?” A horrid thought wormed its way to the surface. “What if they really _don’t_ have any?”

Henry stuck his head under the running water and rubbed his locks clean. “Eh. I’ll get you one from a bakery. A whole one, not a slice. Sound good?”

Sold. “Sound’s fine to me, little sheep.”

/

One unremarkable walk later, Sammy found himself seated across from Henry in a diner that had the squishiest seats he’d ever sat on. The whole place was red and chrome with checkerboard floors. He picked up a menu and gave it a look, lips drawing tighter at the greasy feel of the cover. “Hm…” The shrimp basket looked… safe. If seafood could even be safe in a diner.

Henry closed his menu with a quiet snap. “I’m set.”

“So quick?”

“I’m easy to please.”

“I suppose.”

The server dropped back over with her notepad ready. Sammy decided the shrimp basket was, in fact, safe. Henry had a BLT with fries… and Sammy held back a gasp.

The moment the server was out of sight, he leaned forward. “Bacon.”

“Actual bacon.” But the cartoonist smiled teasingly.

“After… everything.”

“I love bacon. _Actual_ bacon is great, that soup? That was not actually bacon.”

The bell above the door rattled, a b-sharp if the musician ever heard one. They’d been the only ones in the diner… until now. Sammy blinked at the group shuffling into the diner. A couple of teenagers, none of them white, swarmed the tired woman holding a couple menus under an arm as they were led to a table in near the front window. Brows knit, he glanced back over at Henry.

Henry gave his leg a slight bump under the table. “It’s okay. That’s normal. Has been for a few years.”

“... really?”

“I’ll tell you about it back at the motel. But, uh, it’s country wide, not just here.”

“Oh.” He… didn’t quite know how to take that. But he had to keep in mind how the world had changed since he’d been trapped in the studio. He smirked. “That explains how Allison and Tom could marry. Last I knew that wasn’t allowed!”

“There was a letter in Joey’s apartment from her, inviting him to their wedding.” He chuckled before grabbing his coke. “They got hitched about a month after the law got passed.”

That raised a question Sammy wouldn’t dare to think of some years ago. “Can… ah.” He sipped his water and cleared his throat before asking quietly, “Can two men get-”

Henry shook his head a little, cutting off the line of thought before it could sting too harshly. “Not yet. Probably won’t get there in my lifetime. The fight to get here was huge… and not everyone is okay with it.”

“That’s unfortunate.” But at least he wouldn’t have to go through the horror of ring shopping!

“I mean-oop! Food’s here.”

Plates down and server gone, the two of them ate in silence for the most part.

“How’s your sandwich?”

“Great. How’s your shrimp?”

“Good.”

Henry wiped his mouth and smirked. “You mean fantastic?”

“Gimme my slice of cake and we’ll see how this night goes.”

Henry chuckled, and the two of them went back to eating.

Sammy leaned back against the seat and gave a dreamy smile. “I’m… surprised, you know.”

“What about?”

A deep, unsure draw of breath. “How easy this all is. How quickly I’ve… adjusted. Truth be told, I think I’m still in shock.”

“Makes sense that you would be. I mean… you were in hell for… how long?” Henry probed quietly.

“Too long. What year is this?”

“Sixty-four.”

“Jesus. Far too long. Think we can get the cake to go?”

“Sure. Feeling tired?”

“Feeling… exposed.”

Henry nodded. “I get it.”

“Glad you do, my l-… Henry.” Not in public. Not safe. Not yet.

Henry smiled gently. “You can say it.”

“I can’t.”

“You can if you want to. Look around.”

The blond squinted and carefully searched the diner for people. But the only ones to be seen were the teenagers off in their own world, the server taking their drink order, and the hostess out front having a smoke.

It… couldn’t be that simple, could it? To just… check first? “I…” Sammy cleared his throat. “Thank you, my little sheep.”

Henry’s smile grew warm, and he peered over his glasses. “You’re welcome, Sammy.”

And when the walls didn’t cave in, when no one turned to look, when not a thing went sideways and ripped what he loved apart… Sammy believed.

He could also confirm later that night that he wasn’t quite as out of practice as he’d thought… and that chocolate cake was still utterly delicious.

\

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so... this takes place in the 60's, but if the Meatly can have tape recorders in the 40's I can have civil rights a decade early. 
> 
> :3


End file.
